A Time For All Things
by writeonkate
Summary: There is a time for all things; a time for creation, a time for destruction, a time to govern and a time to be governed. A story of the first Court of Narnia.
1. Chapter 1: A Time for Revells

**Disclaimer:** I am not C.S. Lewis. I do not own Frank, Helen, Baachus (who Lewis borrowed, too), or any other part of Narnia.

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"_To everything there is a season,__  
__and a time for every purpose under the heaven.__  
__A time to be born and a time to die;__  
__a time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted;__  
__a time to kill and a time to heal;__  
__a time to break down, a time to build up;__  
__a time to weep and a time to laugh;__  
__a time to mourn and a time to dance;__  
__a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;__  
__a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing;__  
__a time to lose and a time to seek;__  
__a time to rend and a time to sew;__  
__a time to keep silent and a time to speak;__  
__a time to love and a time to hate;__  
__a time of war and a time of peace."_

_-Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8_

"A cheer for the King Frank! A cheer for his fair Queen!" cried a Bear who was far in his cups that night. In the fair light of the moon, Bacchus made the rounds of the celebrators, filling the golden cups of the Narnians full of the sweet, syrupy stuff that was closer to a divine nectar than any sort of wine anyone had tasted. Giddy nymphs flitted between the trees like wraiths, calling the fauns to them and moving to the most achingly wonderful music either Frank or Helen had ever heard.

In the moonlit clearing, the newly-created Narnians celebrated for no further reason than their creation. The Lion had awakened them from what seemed to all like a long slumber, giving these new Narnians the great energy one always feels when waking up from a particularly wonderful nap. Although this was the eve of the second day, no one had even thought of sleep. The world had been too busy to be stopped by such a bland need.

In the midst of it all, the royal pair sat in their finery on makeshift thrones of rather large stumps, surveying this new land and their new subjects. The lights in their eyes shone as brightly as the fire before them as they watched the Narnians celebrate. Laughter rang to the clear night sky, and even the trees swayed in a happy sort of way.

"My fair Queen, you must dance!" cried a nearby faun as he broke from the circle. In a moment, his plea was echoed by all those in earshot. Helen blushed, and although it was a ruddy sort of blush, it was charming from her.

"Come, Nel!" Frank encouraged his young wife. "You are a splendid dancer! Remember how we would dance each other breathless at your aunt's parties?" he added with a grin.

Helen could only blush further at that memory as she accepted the faun's proffered hand and letting him drag her up into the glow of the firelight as he began to teach her the steps.

It was notably more difficult to follow a pair of hooves than a pair of feet, as she had been used to as a girl. Yet the music seemed to fill in the gaps, and in short order the Queen of Narnia was dancing around the clearing barefoot, her mousey brown hair transformed by the firelight and the Narnian air.

Frank watched with wonder as his wife began to dance with a particularly exuberant nymph. For the hundredth time, he wondered at how he had been determined by his almighty creator as worthy for this great honor. His life now was so drastically different than any life he may have hoped for in his former home. Even as he thought of the noisy streets of London (for, that was what it was called, wasn't it?), he found that he could not remember exactly how it was. The din outside the window, he remembered, had disrupted many a night's attempts at sleep. How different it could be here! Frank had a strange sort of feeling when he looked about that he had seen this place in a dream once before, only the dream had been the kind of lovely one which one never desired to wake from. Now, it seemed, he should never have to awaken.

"Frank, join me! It's just like the reels we would dance!" Helen called gaily. Her golden crown, wrought to resemble the strong branches of the elder tree and the delicate leaves of the first spring buds, had since fallen quite lopsided upon her head. Rather than making her look foolish, though, it only made her look more right, in a way, as Queen of such a place as Narnia.

With little effort, Frank joined his wife as she undertook to teach him the dance of the land. Although Frank had always been a rather good-sized fellow, he felt a certain lightness about him now that he had not felt since he was a chap in the country. The steps came more quickly under his wife's tutelage than her own had come, and soon the fauns clapped gaily along with those Beasts who stomped and voiced their approval to see their rulers enjoying themselves.

In the shadows of the forest stood the Great Lion, calmly surveying his creations. It seemed to him that of all those who may have been, the two he had crowned that day would produce a great and worthy line of rulers. To them he had shown a glimpse of what would be, and gave them the necessary knowledge of any ruler. Neither had needed a lesson in fairness. Seeing the earnest looks and even the fear in their eyes had been enough to convince Aslan of their suitability for such a position. They were, from the first, honest people who put their faith in him before they even knew for certain who he was. With that knowledge, and each other, these two would do things that would earn them a spot in the books of history.

With a silent turn, the lion left as suddenly as he appeared, unknown to all the revelers. The time came at last that evening when all those in the clearing could feel their eyelids droop dangerously low with the prospect of sleep, no matter how they fought. Bacchus had long since taken respite in sleep, his golden ewer still clutched in his meaty fingers as he snored happily. Slowly but surely, the dogs began to circle to decide upon their spot, and the bears found their cave, where they would share with the mice for that night.

Stifling a yawn, Frank gave his wife a sidelong glance. Her gray eyes still sparkled with merriment (and no small amount of the god's wine, no doubt), yet her eyelids grew heavy. With all the care he could muster, he gently picked his wife up, holding her gingerly as though she were some precious china doll who was liable to break at any moment. He looked about and saw a faun, older than the rest, looking towards him, and with a nod the king summoned him.

"Might we have the use of a cave, good Faun?" Frank asked in a hushed voice. "My wife is tired and we seek shelter for the night."

With a sage nod, the faun indicated a natural curtain of boughs which, when swept aside, revealed a cave of enough size to comfortably fit the King and Queen. "My quarters, majesties, are at your disposal," intoned the faun with his melodic voice.

"We do not seek to put you from your home-" the King began quickly, only to be halted midsentence by a laugh.

"What need have I to a cave on such a night as this? The grass is superior to any bed I could devise," the faun said with a mischievous smile as he showed the royals to the bed of sweet smelling heather and the contributions of any number of fowl which had somehow appeared at the back of the cave.

"As you wish, Elphus," the King replied, proud to remember a name at last.

With a bow, the faun left, letting the curtain fall back over the entrance. With a little grunt, Frank laid Helen upon the bed, tucking her under a freshly tanned hide of the buck which they had eaten at the feast. He sat upon the bed beside her, watching her fall quickly to sleep while he thought. Ought he stand guard, he wondered. A crease began to form on his brow as he considered the implications of such a plan. He would surely not last the day tomorrow were he not to sleep tonight. Yet, what choice did he have with only a bunch of tree limbs to protect him?

From outside the cave he heard the sounds of rustling and the footfalls of some large beast. With a gulp, Frank's baser instincts began to take hold as he anxiously grabbed for a branch which had fallen into the cave In order to offer himself some protection, however pathetic it was. With cautious steps, he approached the entrance and peered between the leaves.

What he saw astounded him. Outside the entrance the pair of Leopards, as well as the Jaguars and even Fledge had taken up residence, spreading themselves like an impenetrable wall before the entrance, ensuring the safety of its inhabitants.

"Sleep well, Majesty. We shall guard your sleep," came the almost growling voice of the He-Leopard. Frank could only nod, although he knew those outside could not clearly see him, and after a rather strangled-sounding "good night" to all those who had assembled, the King of Narnia fell into bed and slumber at last.

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**A/N**: A huge thanks to Metonomia and rthstewart for their support, and not letting me give up on this idea altogether. :)


	2. Chapter 2: Discord

The roar of a hungry Jaguar followed by the high pitched cry of a dog, all mingled with a string of words which were quite unfit for the hour, was certainly not what Frank had hoped would wake him. Beside him, Nell (Helen, now, he must remember that) was still fast asleep. For once Frank thanked his good fortune that his wife could sleep through the very end of time: for all the times he had wished her awake so she could help him stoke a fire or make the porridge, he suddenly was very relieved that God Almighty had not seen fit to answer his prayers to make her a much lighter sleeper. With the crackling of the heather branches (and, perhaps, of his back), Frank rolled out of their bed, taking only a moment to replace one of the skins, which had rolled off with him, back on top of his sleeping wife. In a very un-kingly manner, he stuffed his feet into the soft leather boots that had replaced his old worn ones and tromped out of the cave, blinking at the sudden sunlight.

"Majesty!" cried a rabbit at Frank's feet. "You must do something… the Jaguar and Dog are fighting, and Ambereye, the Eagle, told me he thought he saw blood!" chattered the rabbit.

Holding back an oath, Frank rubbed his eyes roughly as he followed the rabbit to the place in the clearing which had accommodated the fire last night. The embers still glowed among the ashes of the fire, but the embers were nothing against the righteous anger in the fighters' eyes.

"It is mine! You and your kin know that it was promised to the Dogs last night!" growled the dog as he jumped from side to side, avoiding the large paw of the Jaguar. The dog bared its teeth and gave its most menacing growl, which was enough to make the hairs on the back of Frank's neck stand on end.

The Jaguar hissed in return. "Who promised it to you? Dryads, who eat the soil? Or by the otters, who were so far in their cups last night they could scarce tell you the number of claws on one paw," returned the large Cat. "It was not theirs to give away, in any case."

"Friends! Cease, please!" called Frank to the two, who paused only a moment to look for the speaker. The dog was first to back down, lowering its tail, dripping with blood from where the tip had been quite cleanly removed, and bowing its head.

"Highness, forgive me. This foolish Cat thinks I have taken what is his, when I have done nothing but claim what is rightfully mine…"

The cat cast a murderous look at the Dog, turning its yellow eyes on the black flecked fur of the Dog. "Shall I remove your tail entirely, Dog, and eat that instead?" the Jaguar proposed in a low, growly voice. "It looks quite appetizing, if not a little bony," the cat added, flicking its pink tongue out to lick its lips in a show of hunger.

"Jaguar, I beg of you- cease your arguing," said King Frank, walking on shaky legs to stand between the two. "What has caused you this argument, anyway? I thought I made certain there would be enough meat for all those who required it this morning…" Frank added, confused. He had checked, hadn't he? He had felt foolish, stomping about in a ruby-encrusted crown, asking about haunches of venison and whether the quail the Eagles had caught would be large enough to feed two very hungry bears. Yet Helen (whom he could've used now) had seemed to take to it like a fish to water, and together they had ensured that there would be enough at least for the morning.

"The impudent Dog has taken what has been traditionally the right of the one who brought down the prey- the choicest leg of a buck, killed yesterday, my liege," the Jaguar said, barely nodding its head in acknowledgement of Frank.

Frank shook his head, still half-asleep. All this argument over a piece of meat? A large part of his mind would've liked nothing better than to declare that it was the property of the crown now, and that neither would have it. But he knew that he would hate himself if he did that: he had sworn to Aslan that he would be a fair ruler, and to take it away from both was not the fair thing to do. No, he would have to address this… preferably before more blood was drawn.

"Fillin," he said, addressing the dog. "Is your leg injured?"

"A scratch, sire. Well worth it to have what is rightfully mine," he snarled.

Frank put a heavy hand on the dog's back. "Hold, Fillin. Nothing is being accomplished now aside from you getting blood all over the grass, and my boots," he said, glancing down at the droplets of blood which had dropped onto the top of his boots. "Will you fetch the queen?" he asked the rabbit, who had been watching from behind Frank's boots the entire time.

The rabbit eagerly sped away, although it didn't have far to go. Helen was already shuffling towards her husband, while two dryads protested as one tried to brush out Helen's light brown locks and the other tried to dress it. Frank could see his wife's mouth moving in protest as the dryads floated behind her. "My Lady," Frank called, having to remind himself to not call out her Christian name. "Could you… rather, there's one of our subjects who could use…"

Helen finally managed to shake off the dryads, after insisting (for the hundredth time that morning, it seemed) that she was quite capable of taming her now smooth and thick mass of hair. It had been slightly alarming when she had discovered that her thin, mouse brown hair had been transformed into a mass of golden brown tresses. It was still difficult for her to manage to tame the thickness into any sort of order, but she could tell by Frank's near stuttering that he was in a pickle that she would need to help him with.

As she approached, her eyes were almost immediately drawn to the blood on Frank's boot, and she searched his body for any wounds. With him standing between two very angry looking animals, her mind almost immediately jumped to a thousand terrible fates which could have befallen her husband, but, fortunately, she soon saw the gaping wound on the Dog's (was it Fillin? Or Jasis?) leg. "What's happened here?" she asked, frowning, as she knelt down to the hem of her pink dress and began to tear a strip of fabric from its hem. She thanked her lucky stars that she had been raised on a farm and had beheaded enough chickens in her youth to not be squeamish at the sight of blood.

Frank stood between the two complainants and looked expectantly towards the Jaguar for an answer to his wife's question, but the Jaguar remained in moody silence. "Nahuel, your queen has asked for an explanation," Frank said, his tone firmer than it had been before.

Nahuel, the he-Jaguar, flicked his tail in agitation. "The dog has taken for his meal what is rightfully mine by tradition-"

"How can there even _be_ tradition when this world began only a few days hence?" asked a nearby deer as he stepped forward from the throng of Beasts who had been watching the argument with interest. Obviously, there was certain truth in the Deer's words, thought Frank, and how he reacted was a matter of some importance. Never before had he felt so much pressure to say the right thing, knowing the very weight of his words upon all who gathered here.

"It is what was decided upon the first hunt…" the Jaguar said, the fur on the back of his neck raising on end.

"Whether either of you is right or wrong, Fillin has been injured," Helen said as she pushed her way through the throng of animals. "Fillin, show me your leg," she said as she knelt beside the large dog.

"Really, Lady, it is nothing more than a scratch," Fillin said distractedly as he shared a dark look with Nahuel.

Just as Frank was about to intervene on Helen's behalf, Helen herself straightened to her full height (which wasn't very tall at all), and placed her hands on her hips in a stance which, Frank thought, looked eerily like her mother. "As your _Queen_, I command you to let me have a look at your leg. I swore to Aslan himself that I would do my best to take care of the lot of you, and so far you have made it impossible for me to do that. Would you like to come with me when I answer to Aslan to explain your belligerence, or shall I have a look at your leg?"

The dog placed its tail between its legs, and although he was almost as large as the queen who scolded him, he lowered his head in shame and seemed to shrink in her presence. "My apologies, your Grace," he mumbled as he lifted the injured leg into her expectant hand.

If Helen said anything in return, it was quite inaudible to Frank, who looked between Nahuel, wearing a very smug look indeed, and Fillin, who looked to be enjoying the mothering Helen was subjecting him to about as much as a dog in London would enjoy a bath.

Frank sighed. Of course, he had never thought that this king business would be _easy_, but he hadn't expected it to start this early. "Nahuel, you are certainly doing nothing to help with that smug look. And please, stop eyeing the deer like that," Frank snapped. He put his hand over his eyes as he prayed to Aslan to help him govern these creatures who seemed to resist any governing.

"The cat is wrong, isn't he, Majesty?" pressed a very eager-sounding chipmunk who had scampered up to Frank's foot, pulling on the leg of his pants in attempts to get his attention.

"Let him think, Hoffin," Helen chided gently as she wrapped the strip of her dress tightly round the dog's wound. Fillin whimpered in pain as the queen's surprisingly strong hands pulled the dressing tightly across the still-raw wound, although at a smirking look from Nahuel, he quickly swallowed back any sort of cries of pain.

Finally, Frank opened his eyes and took a deep breath. "Fillin, you were in the wrong to take something which was not, by right, yours. Nahuel, you have disgraced the Jaguar by being surly and taking quarrel and drawing blood from a creature who is not your equal in either size or strength. You shall both have your piece of the leg, if it is even still in fit form to be eaten, and you are both to be punished. I know the eagerness both of you have to fight and protect your kingdom, yet you will be barred from this activity. Instead, you shall be in charge of protecting envoys of deer, moles, and birds to gather their foods. You will have to work together to protect your fellow Beast from the dumb animals who would wish to do them harm."

Nahuel's look became even darker as he looked behind him to the group whom he would have to protect. "You have put me in disgrace, my lord," Nahuel said in his rumbling voice. "Moreover, how am I to work with such a foolish Animal as this _Dog?_" he said, spitting his last word in disgust.

Frank raised an eyebrow. "You are both intelligent animals- I'm certain you will figure it out, for Aslan must have, in his infinite wisdom, seen fit to put you above all your dumb cousins," he said lightly. He felt quite happy with himself for solving this argument with relatively little bloodshed, but it seemed that Aslan's tests on his patience were far from over.

As he walked back to the cave, which had been set up as some temporary castle for the rulers of Narnia, he could already hear the arguments of a group of hungry-looking bears with the leopards who guarded the entrance to the cave.

"What now?" Frank cried in agitation as he rubbed his temples.

"We are hungry, King, and we wish to kill one of the Deer to feed us tonight."

Frank blanched. What the bear proposed was nothing short of cannibalism in his mind. The Talking Beasts of Narnia was what made this land special- it wouldn't do to have the half that ate meat eat the other half within the first year of existence.

"Are there no dumb beasts left? Certainly we couldn't have hunted down the entire population…" Frank said slowly, moving to run a hand through his hair but finding the ruby studded crown in his way. Apparently, he thought, kings were not allowed to be in a muddle about things. No King of England, Frank thought darkly, had to deal with his subjects wanting to eat one another.

"They've left the area, highness," growled a leopard. "We will have no food tonight if we don't do something."

Frank let out his own growl. "You will not kill another animal who has been gifted by Aslan with the ability to speak. Gather everyone, and I will make this proclamation. It is offensive to both me and the Great Lion that you would even propose such a thing! I will have you eat me before you eat one of your brother or sister animals," the king said. "Food will be found, and if not by tonight, I have no doubt that the food consumed during the feasts shall certainly tide you over for one night," Frank said. This was worse than any belligerent customer he had ever had in five years of driving a cab on the busy streets of London.

The two bears and two leopards remained rooted to the spot, their mouths quite firmly shut against any sort of response. The leopards' tails did not even twitch as they looked at the king with unblinking eyes.

"What are you waiting for? Go gather everyone to me!" Frank yelled, loosing his temper with the Beasts before turning on his heel and stomping away into the cave that he called home.

It was there that Helen found him a little while later. Frank sat sulking in the corner, no better than a four-year-old boy, and Helen had every intention on telling her husband so. She sat beside him, her dress stained with some of the blood from Fillin's leg, and her once-clean apron now a little wet and more than a little dirty. If it were not for the delicate crown on her head, nobody would have believed her anything close to a queen. As it was, she looked unlike any queen seen in the parades through the busy streets.

Frank barely looked up as Helen entered, although he was observant enough to remark upon the state of her dress.

"It was soiled doing something good for my new family, Frank," she said with a dismissive gesture at his concern. "Besides, I've never been much for a dress I couldn't get myself dirty in," Helen added as she looked down on her dirty apron with some satisfaction. "But you… Everyone is talking. What's this all about?" she asked, putting a hand on her husband's arm.

"Oh, Helen. Well, you saw enough, I dare say, that you know that these Beasts are coming to the startling realization that more serious stuff than parties will be on par, and we've got nothing planned for it. Why, we're holding on to whatever order there is around here by a thread!" Frank added with a groan.

"Why do you call them that? Beasts?" Helen asked suddenly.

"Well, dear, because they are Talking Beasts. Aslan called them that, I figure I can, too," the king replied, eager to dismiss such a matter in order to look to how in the world he was to govern those who would be like as not to submit than to eat one another up for dinner.

"They're not Beasts, though, Frank. They're beings just like us. Perhaps if you stopped trying to think of them as animals and more like humans, the answer would come easier to you," said his wife in that earnest way of hers which was impossible to become angry with.

"Helen, dear, I know you think that they're just fur and feather covered humans, but they tried to _eat one another_…"

Helen shrugged. "Then you'd best think about how to solve that, hadn't you?" she said with a rather sedate smile as she leaned down to give Frank a kiss on the cheek. "After that, we can think up a solution on how to get that beard of yours trimmed up. You look more like a Beast yourself with that monster sprouting from your face," she remarked as she sailed out of the cave like it was the grandest of homes, undoubtedly to ask more questions of the Dryads about their trees or be sucked into a conversation with the wise Centaur who had told some particularly fantastic stories about the stars during their grand celebration.

Frank flopped back onto the springy bed of heather and threw his arm across his eyes in a most un-kingly fashion. The events of the day were giving him a headache, and, he figured, a short respite could only help. As sleep began to come, a glimpse of gold flashed before Frank's eyes, causing his face to relax a little before finally slipping into a blissfully empty sleep.

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a/n: A huge thanks goes to Metonomia and Rthstewart, once again, for all their help with this. :)


	3. Chapter 3: Rules

Disclaimer: Recognizable characters from the Chronicles do not belong to me. Duh.

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The sound of dozens of different dialects was something still strange to King Frank of Narnia. From his place deep in the cave, he could hear the faint murmur of voices begin to slowly and steadily grow into a persistent buzz, almost like the sound that one hears when a fly comes too close to one's ear to whisper some sort of nonsense within. The buzz was almost as ominous a sound as the fight had been this morning, although this buzz had something different entirely in it- fear. Frank could only imagine how his subjects would react to seeing him angry. He had, in his few days as King, never really shown his temper. Years of being subjected to the anger of stuck-up gentlefolk on the streets of London had served well to teach Frank to hide his emotions when he dealt with people, but now, he found, it was too much.

With a deep breath and a halfhearted attempt to smooth some of the pent up anger from his brow, Frank emerged in what he hoped was something akin to a kingly gesture. For once, his arm didn't seem to tangle in the branches, and as soon as he emerged, it was as though all the sound of the world was swallowed up into the thick air. The scene set before him was a sobering one indeed. Beasts from the tiniest Chipmunk to the greatest Elephant stood in a mass before their ruler, their eyes confused, flitting from one Beast to the next wondering what had occurred that would raise their King's ire so. For a long moment, nobody spoke. Frank was faintly aware of Helen taking a place at his side and putting a hand upon his arm in a show of solidarity, but at the moment he was much too concerned about how to adequately communicate his anger without sounding like a tyrant.

However, it was not for Frank to break the silence. Instead, the great He-Elephant, mightiest of the Beasts, raised his trunk to seek acknowledgement before speaking. "My Liege, have we offended you?" asked the Elephant in its deep voice which shook the very earth beneath them.

"You have not only offended me, but offended Aslan himself," Frank managed to say. Remarkably, his voice sounded steady, and the stutter which had once plagued him as a child made no move to resurface. Feeling slightly stronger, Frank straightened himself to his less-than-impressive height and spoke once more. "Today I witnessed a crime to all Beasts- a proposition of most cold-blooded murder. Did the Great Lion who created you not set you apart from your dumb relations? Do you not seek to prove yourself a more learned type of Beast? The very suggestion of this murder and consumption is a most upsetting thing to me."

"I have gathered you to me to make this proclamation. As King of you citizens of Narnia, I lay down the First Rule. The consumption of a Talking Beast is henceforth a crime of high Treason against the Kingdom of Narnia, and against Aslan himself," Frank said, surprised at how far his voice carried. It was as though something greater than himself had taken hold and given him the exact right thing to say. Looking about at the Beasts gathered, Frank could see them each slowly began to nod.

"Majesty, tell me which fool Beast has offended you!" called one particularly eager looking Wolf. "I shall chase the traitor from this country and guard your lands to make sure he never enters!"

Frank sighed. "There shall be no such thing necessary, good Wolf. Know that it was a mistake, and that we all will make a mistake. I have made my decree, now, and henceforth it will be found as a crime. For now, the offender has my reprieve and blessing," Frank said, loud enough that all could hear him. Without a doubt, the word would get around somehow. Given how eager the chipmunks and squirrels seemed to be to spreading gossip, Frank had little doubt that within the week all would know what had transpired between the Jaguar and Dog, and the Jaguar's surly remarks. Until then, Frank thought, there would be punishment enough in the shame of being known as the one to break The First Rule.

The Wolf, Marrok, did not look so very convinced of his King's words, and there was a sting of resentment in his voice as he managed to growl out an "As you wish." The deference which was shown to their King and Queen was something Frank was beginning to suspect was inbred within each Beast whom Aslan had graced with the gift of speech. Save for the minor infraction that morning, Frank's short time as King had been met with the most amicable of natures, although it was beginning to become apparent to Frank that the honeymoon period was quickly coming to its very sudden halt, and that the celebrations were all quite over.

The vastness of creating a new government had never even occurred to him until this moment. There was much to be done, and one rule was not going to solve what would become inevitable problems. Scolding his subjects into submission was not a tactic Frank was eager to employ too often, and not one he felt he ought to. He sighed inwardly. It would mean nothing, in any case, unless there was some evidence that their King was able to maintain a peaceful and orderly state for his subjects. Already the thought of where the next meal for all those meat eating Beasts would come from caused him great worry, and he knew that rule or no, baser instincts would take hold and order would immediately be lost.

With a worry-creased brow, Frank began to pace. A hunt. He remembered hearing stories about the knights and kings of old in England and their great hunts. They were fabulous affairs, as he remembered from the stories, full of barking hounds and bloodthirsty noblemen atop charging steeds. He had the hounds and the steeds, Frank thought grimly, as well as a host of Great Cats, wolves, and bears who would be more than happy to accompany them on a hunt. It was an entirely plausible solution, he thought, save for one important matter.

Helen. While he had no doubt that Helen could handle herself upon a horse (hadn't she been the one who was caught by the vicar riding bareback with her skirt past her knees one summer day in their childhood?), he could not, nay, would not subject her to something which could, in his opinion, upset her sensibilities so. He could imagine already that Helen would protest, and this was enough of a concern to cause a great deal of hand wringing for the king. While he would prefer to keep her with him, he also felt from somewhere deep inside him that this would be the very wrong thing to do. Hunts, he thought, were like to be dangerous affairs. No dumb beast would stop itself from attacking its attackers, and certainly would not hold itself back from attacking the monarch. Should anything happen to him, he thought with a sickening twist of his stomach, there would have to be _someone_ to guide these people. While he shuddered at the thought, he knew intrinsically that Helen would, with all of her farm girl tenacity, somehow manage through alright. Fledge, he thought, would help her. Yes, Fledge. He would make him stay behind. And an elite guard of Beasts whom he would have to entrust her life to- there was no other way.

Leaving the now scattered group of subjects behind him, Frank wandered deeper into the forest to find a particular one of those beasts whom Aslan had blessed. Never had he been more confused, and for all this he looked to someone who would know infinitely more about Beasts than he could boast of knowing now. As the trees grew closer together, Frank spied an opening amongst the trees where a large horse stood, leisurely taking a meal of the sweet (or, at least, what he had been told was sweet) Narnian grass. The horse was quite a great deal larger than most horses one would find, especially his non-speaking relations, but its most outstanding feature by far were the two huge wings which lay folded against his belly in calm relaxation. The winged horse was altogether a sight to behold, and many of those Talking Beasts who had been created with the horse stood down with great deference in the presence of this mighty creature.

It was more than the sheer magnificence of this horse which brought the King to seek him out. Fledge (or Strawberry as he used to be known in the time Before) was the only other connection to Before that Frank had remaining. With Fledge there was no awkwardness- they had known each other since they were both younglings, and they had worked for years at each other's side, toiling in all unimaginable conditions to eke out a living. The practice of talking to Fledge was not a new thing to Frank, though admittedly since the horse's great bounty from Aslan, the two had seen much less of each other. It did not even take Frank opening his mouth for Fledge to look up from his meal and light up at the sight of his friend. "Brother!" Fledge called in greeting, hastily swallowing back the last of his grass before trotting towards Frank and nodding his great head. "What brings you to me on this lovely day?"

"Fledge, old boy!" Frank said, eagerly embracing the horse round the neck. Familiar though it was, the gesture was one of old acquaintance that neither one minded. Fledge nodded his head against his King's shoulder in his own sort of greeting before they separated and looked at one another. "You're looking well," Frank observed as he took a seat on the ground.

"Tis the air, brother, which can restore all the life I thought had left me," stated the winged horse as he slowly lowered himself down to the ground, this time without grunting in pain from stiff joints. "It's like I'm once more a colt in that huge meadow with my mother. You were there, I think, sometimes."

Frank nodded. "Yes, indeed, I came to visit you. Your mother was one of my most favorite mares." Frank smiled to think of those simpler days when he was just one of five brothers all working on the family farm. He remembered the mare that bore Strawberry (Fledge!) quite well still. She was dappled, much like Fledge (there, he had it now), but had, most remarkably, a very sweet if defensive disposition. It had taken weeks for her to allow anyone approach her foal, save for Frank's father, who had helped deliver the foal. After those weeks, however, Frank had been a very frequent visitor to the field to feed Fledge's mother an apple lately fallen from a tree or pilfered from the stores, and to play with Fledge.

Fledge distractedly pulled up a piece of grass and chewed it thoughtfully, likely attempting to remember a little more of his mother as well. "You were the boy who would come chase me around and play, weren't you?"

"Guilty," Frank admitted, playing with a piece of grass. "Fledge," he said after a minute. "I have a favor to ask of you."

"Ask it, then," the winged horse replied as he rubbed his nose into a wing to get at something hidden within the downy white feathers.

"I'm sure by now you have heard of the events of this morning…" Frank began.

"Oh, about a certain Jaguar and Dog? Heard nothing of it," came the sarcastic reply from the horse. Although he had been a very obedient sort of companion, Frank had always sensed something like sarcasm in the horse's actions, so it surprised him little to hear the tone of his old friend's voice.

Frank guffawed. "Of course not," he replied in kind as he relaxed a little more. "Though in all seriousness, friend, a line has been crossed today. I fear the fun we've all been having these past few days has come to an end, and it's time for us now to get down to that nitty gritty business of making certain all is well and the like. And… well, to be perfectly honest, I haven't the faintest idea of what makes a good king, much less a good king of a kingdom whose occupants are beasts and tree nymphs and all other fantastic sorts of creatures I didn't believe existed a week ago," Frank said.

"What about that female of yours? The Queen? Haven't you told her about this?"

"Of course I have, Fledge, but she hasn't any better idea than I, save to tell me that they're not so different than any human I ever dealt with…"

Fledge looked up to meet Frank's eye. "And you doubt her advice? The Queen's more right than wrong, in my experience," was the sage reply. "Didn't you treat me like a human often enough? I faintly remember you talking to me, and me being unable to answer- what a bother that was!- during those especially tedious days on the streets when it was too rainy for any person, or Beast really, to be outside. And you'd spend nights outside with me when I was sick, just as you would any human child. You're not all that inept at dealing with us beasts, brother."

"But they're not dumb beasts, either! I can't expect to coo and talk at them as I profess I sometimes did to you, my friend, and show the proper respect, can I? Not to mention that they all have their so very _animal_ manners…"

Fledge abruptly struggled to his feet. "My liege, I cannot answer your questions as you had hoped, I fear. Of all things, I know of only one who could answer these questions, and it is Aslan. The Great Lion told me a piece of advice that, in gratitude for all you have done for me, I tell you now- search yourself, and the answer is not far away, no matter the question," Fledge ended with a snort.

Frank was left quite stunned on the grass. Surely it could not be so simple? Yet he was afforded no time to think of it, for he caught out of the corner of his eye Fledge moving away, and he hurriedly stood; his questions were not yet all answered yet. "Fledge, my apologies, my friend. I did not mean to ruffle any feathers…" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Frank groaned inwardly. Of all the phrases he could have used, of course he'd use the one which applied most aptly to his friend.

Fledge's reaction was, blessedly enough, to pause, although it was that sort of mid-step pause that indicates that the performer was quite startled by something. The horse stood frozen for a long moment, and Frank began to frantically gather up enough apologies to make up for his err in words, when the most unexpected of sounds was heard.

Fledge laughed.

It wasn't quite like a human laugh, really- you could hear his neighs and whickers in amongst the guffaws of laughter. Yet it was full of enough mirth to leave no doubt in the King's mind that, far from being angry, his friend was laughing.

"I beg your pardon, Brother…" Frank began, but was shortly cut off.

"Ruffled my feathers! If I had not been witness to The First Joke, I would have counted that to be the most fitting First Joke I could imagine," Fledge said with another whinnying sort of laugh.

Frank could not help but smile, too, at his friend's laughter, and soon joined him. "It was a rather unfortunate use of words…"

"Unfortunate? Nay, Brother, the most fortunate choice I could imagine!" cried Fledge as the pair erupted into laughter.

* * *

a/n: Thanks to Meto especially for her help with this chapter. :)


	4. Chapter 4: On, Narnians

The day dawned fair for the King's Hunt, and already the small valley in front of the Royal Cave had begun to fill with the hunting party. Wolves and tigers leapt about in eager anticipation, while the great bears and lions hung back, eyeing the proceedings with a leery eye. Above, the hawks and eagles had all begun to circle the valley, their silent shadows sliding over the anxious assembly below.

Inside the cave, Frank stood pacing the floor at the back of their cave abode as Helen sat upon their bed of heather, carefully packing her husband's things in a makeshift rucksack she had hastily whipped together from the leftover hide of the deer that had been slaughtered two days ago. "Frank, you'll wear out the floor," she said, pausing a moment to consider a particularly ornate shirt out of the trunk that had appeared in their home without ceremony their very first night in Narnia. Shaking her head, she placed the shirt back into the trunk, pulling out a simpler one instead and carefully folding it before tucking it inside.

"It's stone, Nell. I'll hardly wear it out like your carpets," Frank muttered, wringing his hands and ignoring his wife's sigh.

Helen stood, the heather rustling underneath her weight as she got up and went toward her husband, catching his arm with her small hand. "No, but some things never change, do they?" she said with a small smile, giving him a light kiss upon his cheek as she bent to retrieve the rucksack. "It will be well, Frank. I will be perfectly safe with Fledge and the rest," she said gently, patting his shoulder. Her husband's agitation was as obvious now as it had ever been. In the time Before, Helen remembered, he had worn out three of the imitation carpets she had managed to barter for her services as a laundress. When her husband was nervous, he paced, a pastime far better suited for the dirt of the farmlands they had grown up on rather than the small flat in London which they had shared.

Frank took his wife's hands in his, looking her in the eye. A thousand things he wanted to tell her ran through his mind: 'I love you,' 'I'll miss you,' 'I'm terribly frightened that I'll muck this all up and all this will be for naught.' Finally, though, he settled on one to say to her. "Promise me you won't go anywhere without them..." he said quietly.

"Frank, you sound like you're going off to war, not on a hunt. You used to go stalking with your grandfather in the woods, didn't you?" Helen said with a gentle and reassuring smile.

Frank scoffed. The stalking he had done with his grandfather had hardly qualified as anything meaningful, at least in his mind. He had once taken down a quail in a moment of grandeur, but aside from that, he had been quite entirely unsuccessful. Suddenly his uncertainty came rumbling up in his gut like the meal he had the misfortune to eat at a shabby inn near the quay in the middle of a rainstorm. For a moment he closed his eyes tightly, trying to reassure himself before giving his wife's hands a squeeze and a kiss and turning hastily to the entrance of the cave before he could once more lose his nerve.

As he emerged from the cave, a great raucous cheer heralded his arrival. Many more beasts than he had thought had shown themselves this day. His eyes went unbidden to the band of Beasts that would serve as guardians of Narnia and his wife while he was away, and held back his dismay. It seemed that the pack was woefully small... smaller than Frank remembered. He had spent the better part of the day yesterday convincing some of the more trustworthy animals to stay behind with Helen, a feat which proved to be a great deal harder than he had anticipated since he was fighting against growling stomachs. With only fish that the beavers (and, perhaps, the otters, though they had been evasive with the amount they would actually help) had promised to provide fish for the carnivores who stayed behind, it had been hard to convince many to do it of their own will, and Frank had a momentary debate with himself about the intelligence of leaving his wife under their care. What if something were to happen? They were still strangers in a strange place... the possibilities for what could go wrong were endless.

Helen, though, seemed to hold none of his same reservations, for she was, in short order, walking calmly towards her group of retainers, a broad smile on her face as she greeted first Fledge then Narccer, the He-Elephant and his mate, Bes, before pleasantly greeting the rest of the assembled band, glancing over her shoulder expectantly at Frank.

The buzz of voices was becoming louder and louder, until Frank rose his hand for silence. "Friends! We have gathered with the hope of undertaking a hunt in which to not only procure food, but also to explore these lands which Aslan has, in his great wisdom, bestowed upon us," he said, his voice sounding steadier than he had hoped. Gaining confidence from the excited whispers that began to be exchanged, he cleared his throat again. "Of course, it is my hope that we shall return here within a fortnight, though I shall stop none who wish to leave our party in order to explore the lands further on their own. Know, Narnians, that all shall always be welcome here in my court to find what help and comfort the Queen and I may ever offer you," he said, watching with awe at the nods and murmurs of agreement that swept the crowd assembled.

In short order the agreement had turned loud and raucous, causing Frank to signal Alair, the centaur who had quickly become an advisor of sorts, to blow the magnificent hunting horn that had been presented to Frank yesterday as a gift by the dwarves, who were currently scrambling about for something more to do with their hands. A loud cheer rose up as the Beasts all began to form themselves into their travelling packs, leaving Frank a moment to address his wife's protectors.

"Friends, the task I leave you is one of the greatest in the kingdom," he said quietly, watching Helen begin among the assembled hunters offering wishes of good luck, an encouraging pat, or even, for one, help binding a sore paw to make the traveling easier. "You must protect your Queen, and the capitol which we have begun here," he continued, watching those assembled nod in solemn agreement. "If I do not return, she shall be charged as your sole ruler. Do you understand?" he asked solemnly, his face grave.

"I have every confidence that this shall not happen, Majesty," intoned Fledge, who shook his head emphatically. "You will be more than safe in the company of your party."

"Even so, Brother, even so..." Frank said, sighing. "I have your word?"

"Aye," came the unanimous voices of all assembled.

"Very good," Frank said, nodding, as he made haste toward his wife, who stood near his horse, a dumb beast that had shown up conveniently yesterday near their camp, almost as if he had been called there.

"There you are," Helen said brightly, stroking the horse's nose gently. "All will be well," she said quickly, noticing the solemn look on her husband's face. "Why, it will do you well to go tromping about with your subjects. Just don't forget to eat regularly... I know how you are when you're worried," Helen said with a smile, patting his stomach with a sparkle of mirth in her eye.

"Helen, you ought to know..." Frank began, taking her hands urgently.

"Shh... I already know, darling. There are always ears to listen," she said with a gentle smile. "I promise to send a swift hawk if I should need anything. Besides, a fortnight isn't so very long," she said optimistically as she leaned in to give him a quick kiss, ignoring the giggling of the nearby nymphs. "Safe journey," she said with a smile as she stepped back, waiting for him to mount.

"Come, your Majesty. All we lack to begin is you," came the deep voice of Alair as he came trotting up, taking the horse's hands in his large ones to hold it steady.

Frank nodded, and with one last look at Helen, who was standing by with a serene smile now, he put his foot in the stirrup of the newly-made saddle (another Dwarven creation, no doubt) and hoisted himself into his seat, leading the surprisingly compliant horse to the front of the ranks.

"Ride on, Narnians!" he called grandly, sparing a look back to the great group assembled before turning into the great unknown and riding out, leading his subjects to whatever may await them.

a/n: A year hiatus and here it is. Apologies for spelling/grammar errors: I'm afraid my editing eye got over-used grading 7th graders essays this past school year.


	5. Chapter 5: Work

The sun beat hot on Helen's back as she bent, stooped, over the freshly-turned earth in front of her, carefully scattering seeds into the centre of each furrow. Her hand went into the pocket at her waist to retrieve the already-stiff handkerchief and mop her brow as she straightened, putting her other hand on her lower back and stretching tentatively. Today she was thankful that she had thought to exchange her crown for a wide brimmed hat she had helped the dryads make out of the long grasses that grew in the high meadows, and had traded her more queenly robes for the simple dress she had been wearing the First Day. Though the work was achingly familiar, whispering back to her memories of her childhood, even Narnia could not make it any less tedious and, regretfully, painful.

"Majesty, when shall we be done?" came the complaint of a nearby rabbit. "I feel as though we've been doing this forever," he continued, rubbing the back of his neck with his paw.

"Oh, Braq, we'll all be very thankful when this is done," Helen said with a weary smile. "But I'm afraid there's yet a great deal of work to be done," she said, putting her hands on her hips to survey the work before her.

A great deal of work was a vast understatement. Two days earlier, while exploring with Nimue, a She-Leopard who had taken a shine to Helen, Helen had quite accidentally discovered the land's eagerness to grow when she accidentally spilled some of the nuts the squirrels had so thoughtfully given her into a newly dug hole, and they had quickly sprouted into a tiny sapling which seemed to grow more by the very hour. It seemed to Helen that the earth variably called out to its inhabitants, willing them to let her give out her bounty. Ever since, those nearby had been rather drafted into the old, achingly familiar work of planting the fields, although Helen could already see progress in the areas they had planted earlier this morning.

In addition, the din of hammers and chisels could be heard echoing in the distance as the dwarves began to undertake their greatest endeavor yet. Lyremy, one of the more sociable of the dwarves, had confided in Helen the day after Frank's departure that he had had a dream of a beautiful castle upon the crest overlooking the Great Sea, a half-day's journey from the Cave. In his dream, Lyremy said, he had soared over the structure like he was a bird, seeing its beautifully carved doors and wide windows which let in the cool sea breeze during the hottest months, and its magnificent high towers which stood taller even than the tallest tree in Narnia. The inside, he continued, had been equally beautiful, with heavy furniture and a room where not two but four thrones sat, large enough even for the great elephants to be in and all others to yet be comfortable. At the end, he had said, his voice nary above a whisper, he had heard Aslan's voice, bidding him to build this beautiful palace for his country, and to use the gifts which Aslan had provided for him. Upon hearing his dream, Helen could do naught but give her assent and a gentle plea that he and his brothers remain careful with their ambitious endeavor.

Helen had been careful to leave much of the land untouched, especially the great woods which began to their south. Instead, she had used a land near grazed away, leery to bend the land to her will as her forefathers had done, for this earth felt a great deal more, well, _alive_ than the land Before ever had. Still, the task ahead was almost disheartening from the sheer amount to be done yet, despite the land's cooperation.

The Beasts knew nothing of the changing of the seasons yet, or of the dangers of facing winter without good stores. Braq may complain now of the hard work and toil, but, she was certain, he would soon enough be happy of his work before that had reaped him so many benefits.

One look about her, though, told Helen that many of her aides shared Braq's opinion, even if they were unwilling to voice it. Hazy memories flitted through her mind of singing in the field with her siblings when they were sent out to help with the weeds or to gather in the small herd of sheep her father had kept. The songs they had sung were hazy, but their melodies still played, clear as the first time she had heard them. Certainly, she thought, the words would come easily in time as she turned back to her work, starting to hum the tune under her breath.

_In the valley we work,_

_begging the good earth,_

_to yield us the bounty she holds._

_Yet in our toil_

_we know that the soil_

_shall give us our food for the winter._

_Narnia, Narnia,_

_fair earthen mother thee,_

_help us to thrive,_

_help us to survive,_

_your ever changing seasons._

Helen sang loudly, smiling slightly as first the birds, then the rabbits, then the rest began to repeat the song with her time after time, moving methodically down the rows being sown by Emre the badger with her hand plow.

In short order they were finished, the time breezing by in song, and Helen gathered her faithful helpers beneath the shade of a large oak tree, passing around little bowls of the sweet water the nymphs had made this morning. As sore as her back would undoubtedly be, Helen knew their work today would not go unrewarded, and she leaned back against the tree's broad trunk, satisfied.

"Majesty," came the voice of Nimue as she trotted towards the great tree. "A hawk has come from the King," she called from a short distance, looking out the corner of her eye at the bird who had perched himself in a nearby tree.

"Who is it? Lightwing? Lightwing, come down here," Helen called, thinking of standing but then thinking better of it and instead beckoning him down with her hand.

The hawk fluttered down gracefully to the shoulder of a wood nymph, who seemed quite unfazed by his sudden appearance there. The hawk gave a little rustle of his feathers before inclining his head slightly. "Majesty, I bring word from King Frank," he said, raising his head again and shifting on the nymph's shoulder, causing her to wince a little as one of the hawk's talons dug a little too deeply into her shoulder.

Helen sat up and motioned for the bird to continue, trying to contain her eagerness to hear her husband's message.

"King Frank sends his greetings and his warmest regards, and humbly asks your forgiveness, for the party has been delayed. It seems they have come across an unusually large number of dumb... oh, bother, what did he call them... shoop? No, sheep... yes, sheep, in their journey and the King is organizing a group of Dogs and even some of the Wolves to start herding them back here. He has humbly requested that you create a... a pen, he said, to contain them, just until they get used to the area."

Helen nodded slowly, considering Lightwing's message. There was no doubt that Lightwing was a good messenger- his words sounded almost exactly like Frank would have said them. Yet what her husband proposed was stunning- would the wonders of their new home never cease? Her grandparents had been sheep farmers, and she had hazy memories of summers spent in the endless green of her grandparents' farm, herding sheep that were sometimes as big as one of her little brothers or sisters. Though her back protested at the thought of digging the deep trenches needed for the posts, and her hands already began to ache with the tying of the rails, she smiled through it all.

"Very well. How goes the hunt otherwise?" Helen asked, looking at the bird expectantly.

Lightwing twitched his wing a little, belying his discomfort. "The hunt? It promises to be successful, Majesty," he reported quickly.

The Queen nodded, not fooled by Lightwing's words. "Then I shall detain you no further. Give the king my good wishes and assurances that what he asks shall be done," she said with a gentle smile as the hawk eagerly spread his wings and went flying off to the west, disappearing into the sun's blaze.

a/n: Many thanks for the kind reviews. 2 chapters in a week's time! I'm on a roll. :)


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